Idealist
by Nightsnow
Summary: Anders is not the only mage in Thedas dreaming of freedom. In Marian Hawke he meets a mage with equally strong ideals, the downside being that she is one of the feared blood mages, who are not about to let anyone tell her that she is wrong.
1. The Eyes of an Apostate

Ns: I have decided that there is not enough of Anders and blood mage Hawke so I molded this story after my canon diplomatic Hawke, but blood mage Hawke. It starts after everyone have been recruited.

Summary: There is nothing more dangerous than a persons who believe they are right.

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><p><strong>Eyes of the Apostate<strong>

As an apostate and malificarum, Marian Hawke lived her life by some few very simple rules.

1. Always be polite and kind to avoid drawing unnecessary malice towards her and her little sister. People never think it is the nice girl, quiet girl next door that is the dangerous malificarum.

2. Always keep strangers at a polite arm's length to avoid letting anyone close to the family secret.

3. Never be too good, too outstanding. All attention is bad attention.

In the twenty-four years she had lived those rules had been all Hawke lived by. That was also the only reason she was sitting here and playing a card game she didn't really knew with people she didn't wanted to know. Her eyes scanned the other players around the table.

Carver. Her beloved, grumpy little brother. She didn't care if he thought she was mothering him and being far too protective. She had failed Bethany. She would not fail Carver, Mother or Uncle. They were the only family she had left.

Speaking of family was Aveline. The guard-woman soon to be captain, had earned her title as family. Yes, she had married a templar, but the man was dead and Hawke couldn't blame Aveline for her late husbond's poor choice of career. Not when she too knew how it was too lose someone. Aveline was the only non-family member Hawke had ever trusted. Her first and only true friend.

Varric, he was friendly, he was funny and he was her ticket to the money she needed. If Hawke had to be dependent on a person, Varric was not the worst choice. He was still a compulsive liar and absolutely not the safest choice for a person who just wanted to keep her head down and not be noticed.

Fenris... As a blood mage Hawke apparently represented everything he hated. Which he made clear! On several opportunities. Honestly Hawke didn't know why he was willing to fight for her, but she really wanted to believe that if she was just nice and reasonable to him he would one day see that mages, blood-magic or not, weren't all corrupted – Hawke would also like to believe that the money she needed would just manifest when she was woke up one morning. There would come a day when Fenris would betray her.

Isabella, the raider captain without a ship. Hawke didn't know her, didn't trust her and had a slight inkling that Isabella only hung out with them to see how embarrassed she could make Hawke. One day, Hawke guessed that Isabella would tire of them.

Merrill, the dalish elf. Hawke liked her because she had the same practical attitude toward blood magic as Hawke, but there was something Merrill didn't tell them. It worried Hawke. All potential danger worried Hawke.

Potential danger was Anders the former grey warden also. Not so much because he had a spirit of Justice living inside him. Neither was it because he seemed intent on changing the world views on mages. As an apostate Hawke was willing to sacrifice a lot for mage freedom, and could appreciate Anders doing the same. No the danger with Anders was that he had flirted with her. _Flirted_! While she was pretty enough, her lifeless looking eyes had normally prevented all potential suitors from becoming actual suitors which had meant that Hawke didn't have to reject anyone, and she had totally fumbled it up when Anders had approached her and somehow ended up _encouraging _him. Luckily he had rejected the idea himself on his own notion, but...

Hawke looked up and found that Anders' eyes were once more on her. They were so often, and it was not always with the same lust full undertone that Isabella would spawn when she talked about ships. It was with a hint of something else that Hawke wouldn't identify, but Hawke was sure that of all the people in this group of hers, Anders was the most dangerous.

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><p>Marian Hawke had dull eyes. This Anders realised as he was losing his third round of Wicked Grace towards to Varric and Isabella. Of course he would properly be doing better at the game if he focused on the cards instead of Hawke's eyes, but their mystery wouldn't leave him alone.<p>

When Hawke first had entered his clinic Anders had noticed those eyes – Blue bordering to grey, but without any shine, any life in them. Anders had first thought that here was a person without hope, but when she opened her mouth Hawke spoke with a soft voice filled with kindness and conviction.

Anders came to the conclusion that Hawke's lifeless eyes didn't betray a soulless personality but their dull colour was just that – a mere colour. It was also in that minute that Anders realized that Hawke was looking at him with a lifted eyebrow across the table.

"Anders, you are losing rather badly." She calmly said no hint betraying that she had noticed her look. "Between Varric and Isabella we are _all_ losing badly."

"_I_ am beating you." Hawke said quietly. "And this is my first time playing the game."

Isabella smiled deviously at Hawke.

"And here I thought you were hypnotizing Anders with you feminine charm on purpose."

Hawke just proved that despite their colour her eyes were perfectly capable of widen in embarrassment and surprise.

"Oh..." She said looking down. "It is not like that. Apostates don't..." Hawke paused and looked contemplating at Isabella. "That argument isn't going to fly with you." She muttered to herself and instead said: "I am just so boring that I can't distract anyone with my feminine charm." Hawke smiled grew even wider as she placed her cards on the table. "Instead I will just win this game."

Everyone stared at Hawke in the last game she had lost worse than Merrill.

"You cheated!" Isaella stated. "I never thought you had it in you."

Those lifeless eyes quickly flickered away, but their dullness couldn't hide the faint sight of pink that tinted her cheeks.

"I would _never_ cheat." Hawke claimed. "I just followed what everyone agrees are the rules of the game." No one looked convinced and Hawke moved uncomfortably. "Now I will continue being a bore and quit while I am ahead." Hawke gracefully left the table, trying to mask that she was in a hurry to flee the accusing eye of her little brother.

The night wind was blowing cold against his skin, shaking of the small touch of alcohol that could still have affected him. Perhaps that was a good thing. It definitely made it easy for him to identify Hawke and her mabari.

"Hawke, wait!" She stopped at his words and waited for him to catch up. "You shouldn't go alone. It is dangerous."

"I have Red to take care of me!" She patted the head of her giant war dog. "But you are welcome to follow."

They walked in silence. That was normal with Hawke. Anders had noticed that she rarely spoke and furthermore she seemed to have the idea that people only turned to her when they had problems, never for small talk. He glanced at her once more. It had been two weeks since she walked into his clinic and in these two weeks Anders had thought of her constantly. If someone had ever told him that he would be this attracted to a blood mage he would have laughed, but he was sure he would get over it.

"Anders..." Hawke suddenly said. "Perhaps you should pay more attention to our surroundings."

"I _am_ paying attention." Was this her way of telling him to keep his eyes for himself? Before Anders could ask the question he heard a whistling sound and he turned around. Too late he registered the arrow heading straight for him and he briefly wondered if Justice would make it possible for him to survive an arrow through the skull. He never got the answer. With a low sound the arrow collided with the bubble formed barrier which suddenly protected him. Besides him Hawke was concentrating and soon the swirly energy of an arcane shield protected them both.

Anders knew, however, that the arcane shield wasn't arrow proof, and Hawke couldn't keep real barrier around them all the time. He quickly drew his staff and tried to locate the enemies. It seemed to be some of the thugs that inhabited Lowtown.

"We are not rich." Hawke tried to argue. "You won't get anything out of robbing us."

"You have some nice equipment, Dog Lord, and everyone can appreciate a nice girl now and then."

Anders felt his grip around his staff tighten. How dared they threaten Hawke with something like that? They would pay. He hammered the weapon into the ground and caught a group of the snipers in a glyph of paralysis. Before they had time to recover Anders concentrated all his anger into a burning ball of fire. The thugs screamed as they were consumed by the flames, but he didn't manage to get enough of them another arrow headed straight for him. It was led astray by the swirling of Hawke's arcane shield, but Anders knew enough of the magic to know it was just a matter of time before one passed Hawke's defence.

"I miss your charming brother right now." Anders muttered to Hawke as he froze an enemy targeting her.

"Yes. I know." Hawke was far too busy to say more. The enemy had gotten melee reinforcement and she was concentrating on letting a huge warrior clutch his head in terror. Hawke wasted no time to for the enemy to recover but pierce the man with the sharp end of her staff.

Like so many mages Hawke's magic was formed by her personality. She was a woman who fought to protect and not to kill and thus she professionalised in the arcane and entropy school. Normally Anders was relieved with that kind of back up because it meant he could concentrate on healing his allies and killing his enemies. Right now, though. It would have been very, very nice with another person to help killing large groups of enemies. As if she could read his thoughts Hawke muttered something akin to a curse and Anders heard the cold sound of metal being drawn. He glanced at Hawke again. As expected she had drawn her knife, he already knew what she planned to do.

"Don't!" He whispered. "You can't already be unable to changeling the Fade."

"I have plenty of energy left." Hawke admitted as she, completely ignoring his plea, tore the skin of her hand apart. Anders felt how the magic rose from her, but not magic bound in the Fade instead it was magic bound in life, her life as he was bitterly reminded when he watched how many of her vein glow slightly red with power. "But all the mana in Thedas would not help me if I got an arrow in my chest."

It was then Hawke lifted her staff and... Maker's breath she plunged it right through her abdomen. Anders winched as he watched her slowly pull the weapon out. The group of archers roared as they were suddenly caught in a pool of blood. He could only watch them die – not that he hadn't been willing to kill them himself seconds before. No more arrows was flying, they had properly won the battle. Anders turned to Hawke.

"Let me heal...

"Safe your strength!" Slowly, because it was impossible even for Hawke to run with a huge wound in her stomach and blood dripping from her hands, she dragged her feet to the corpses. She stood up straight with a wince because of the stomach wound and spread her arms open. Anders watched as she closed her eyes in concentration and sucked up the residue life that still clung to the corpses. The wound in stomach, her torn hand, even her clothes mended. Relaxed the red glow under her skin vanished. She opened her eyes and for a second Anders thought he saw a faint spark of life in them then they returned to their original dull colour. Then they locked with his. For a moment there was no Justice, there was no mage's plight, there was only this woman that made his heart pound, but Hawke looked away and the moment was lost.

"Anders, next time please don't get distracted... my healing is inferior to yours."

Distracted? Then he remembered the arrow that had almost pierced him in the start of the battle. He watched as Hawke disappeared up the stairs to her uncle's house.

She was right. **Marian Hawke was a distraction.**

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><p>Ns: First chapter. I hope you enjoy this fic.<p> 


	2. Apostate Sisters

Ns: So I have the next chapter ready. Maker knows that I have re-read it enough times now. English is not my first langue so I does trouble me sometimes because the grammer is very unlogical for me. I am glad for all the alerts. Even if it does put a bit of pressure on me. (The good kind of pressure, mind you), and to the first person who responded: Yes it is once of my biggest problems with the game that no one noticed if you are a bloodmage/templar given how much they are involved with the story.

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><p><strong>Apostate Sisters<strong>

For once Anders had no patients which meant that he had the time to check his supply of potions. He had two health poultices, two lyrium potions and three elfroot potions: All gifts that Hawke had forced on him under the guise of him being 'part of the team'.

A sharp thug of disapproval erupted in his mind.

All right - that was not forgetting about Hawke.

Without patients Anders had time to concentrate on the mages. He knew no one in Kirkwall - except the refugees in Darktown, but meeting Hawke had inspired him and made him hope that more apostates existed in this vile city.

Anders groaned as he realized that Hawke had crept into his mind again. New line of thought:

He should write down his arguments. Hawke had presented it quite well. He recalled what she had said: _Forcing mages into servitude is not the way to prevent the rise of another Tevinter_. It was something like that. Surely he, with his education, could formulate it better than the home trained Hawke.

Anders sunk his head in his hands. Was there no way for him to avoid Hawke invading his thoughts?

Almost as if he wanted to materialize his problem, Anders heard a soft knock on the door. There were only one person who had the courtesy to knock on the doors in this city and correctly enough Hawke carefully stepped into the clinic avoiding something unmentionable on the floor.

"Anders? Good you aren't busy." Hawke nodded with her usual polite smile. "I was in the neighbourhood because I had to break into mother's family house." She explained when she noticed his questioning look. She was the only one Anders knew who could formulate such a sentence without batting an eyelid. "And we found a will saying we should all be nobles." She sighed at the thought. "An apostate noble I my case…"

"Well in that case..." Anders made a mockery bowing gesture. "I salute you Lady Marian."

Hawke sucked in her lower lip. For a moment there was a brief glimpse of angry wrinkles on her forehead. Then Hawke let her lip go and her face straightened up.

"Call me Hawke. Marian was the useless peasant girl who watched her baby sister be squashed by an ogre."

"You had a little sister?"

Hawke turned her head away:

"Carver's twin. You would have liked her. She was a mage. Sweet and innocenct... good with animal too. Hawke laughed humourlessly. "Not that any of that helped against an ogre."

"I am sorry."

"Yes. I don't want to talk about it." Hawke bit her lower lip again, and Anders clearly sensed that it was a 'don't go there subject', but most subjects seemed to be 'don't go there' with Hawke. It was impossible to get to know her properly if he respected them all.

"So besides breaking and entering... Why _did_ you come here?"

"You weren't by chance in the Kirkwall Circle?" Hawke asked.

"Maker, no! I was in Fereldan."

"Oh... I rather figured you would be from Andersfeld actually. Your name and all..." Hawke fumbled with a piece of paper. "Would it be impolite to ask if Karl mentioned other mages from Kirkwall in any of his notes?"

"You are free to ask, but he didn't. Why?"

"I just found this letter to my father from a Toberius. They were well written so I assumed it was someone circle trained." Hawke clutched the paper in her hand. "If you don't know I will have to go to the Gallows." She sighed. "I had hoped to avoid that place as much as possible, but I guess that I can't. Farewell."

"See you later." Anders absentminded answered. His thoughts were still on the mage's plight. What he could do about it? **They** **had to do something**. Then Hawke's word registered. Anders panicked and hurried after her, he hastily grabbed Hawke's wrist in an attempt to stop her.

"Are you completely mad?" He asked angrily. "You can't go near the gallows."

"I'll be fine." Hawke looked at his finger around her wrist. He let go. "It is not like I am going to trap the first Templar I see in a Crushing Prison."

"It is crazy. You are_ not _going there alone."

Hawke looked at him with a lifted eyebrow. Anders sucked in his breath in and waited for the words he just knew she was going to say.

_You really think that I will drag you anywhere near the templars after what happened in the Chantry? _

_Like I am going to drag the blue glowing guy anywhere near a Templar._

_You are monster and can't control yourself._

She was going to say one of those sentences,Anders was so sure.

"If you want to come along you are welcome." Hawke softly said.

Anders starred at her, but she just stared back unblinking. His heart began to beat a little faster. Hawke never chided him for Justice. She was such a kind person.

Properly deciding that their conversation was over, Hawke turned from him to wade through the horde of refugees, her black mercenary outfit clearly setting her apart from her fellow countrymen.

Meeting Hawke _now _when he couldn't get close to her without placing her in danger, had to be a cruel trick from the Maker side.

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><p>Seen in hindsight, Hawke realized that dragging Merrill and Isabella along with her to the Gallows properly wasn't her most brilliant move. She had found Toberius easy enough and he had been so nice to give her more letters from her father (Hawke still couldn't believe that Carver was named after a Templar. A Templar of all things!") but as she folded the letters and placed them in a pocket. She looked around and discovered that she could only see Anders. He was standing close to the gates leading out that and was trying his best to hide how he sent evil glares after the Templars.<p>

"Where are Merrill and Isabella?" Without wanting it, Hawke felt her voice falling to a nervous whisper. Anders caught onto her tone and looked over his shoulder equally nervous. Hawke was keenly aware that the pair of them had to look suspicious.

"Merrill saw something shiny and they went off to investigate." Anders said.

Hawke felt her jaw drop open.

"You are kidding me. Please, tell me that you are kidding."

"I honestly don't know." Anders answered irritated the area clearly grating on his already thin patience. "They just went off, but it sounds like something Merrill would do."

"Merrill is not an idiot." Hawke said irritated. Anders looked like he disagreed with that statement, but Hawke was too busy being nervous to take offense on behalf of Merrill. Her eyes flicked around and landed on the bronze statues of Tevinter slaves… She couldn't stand to not knowing where two persons, whose health she was responsible for, were.

"Let's go and find them." Hawke said. It was weird. When she knew where everyone was, Hawke had felt… not secure, but at least in control of things. Now she noticed another new Templar with each step she took and the statues of suffering slaves seemed like a taunting remark who the victorious Chantry flaunted over the defeated mages. She felt angrier and angrier as she ventured deeper into the Gallows. This was the first Circle she had come close to and the face it showed publicly was so bad that not even her worst nightmare could live up to what must take place behind the closed doors.

Finally Hawke found Merrill and Isabella. They were shopping. Shopping of all things. For a second she wanted to yell at them, but raising her voice would just get them unwanted attention. Hawke let out a sigh and counted to ten to forget all about being angry.

"You are unharmed." She said. "Don't disappear on me in this wretched place. I was worried."

"Sorry." Merrill said. "But we thought that you wanted to be alone with your letters."

"Nobody was harmed." Hawke said. "I have taken no offense." From the corner of her eyes she was watching the Templars who were standing guard to the main part of the prison which the Chantry still dared to call a Circle. Perhaps it was just her imagination, but she was sure that the under the helmet the man was looking straight at her.

"Excuse me, Serah." It wasn't a Templar, but the shopkeeper that disturbed Hawke's track of paranoia. "But I can't help and notice that you look like the adventurous sort…"

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><p>One day, Hawke thought as she watched her father's boot getting dusted from all the walking. One day, she would make it through the day without someone sending her out on some kind of weird assignment.<p>

Never stand out. One of her core rules – Hawke was pretty sure that tracking down outlandish ingredient for shopkeepers in the Templars' headquarters was the very definition of standing out, but she needed the money. She still hadn't shaken off the attack of paranoia that had caught her in the Gallows, and quite frankly didn't look forward to dealing with the Dalish sense of smug superiority as Fenris so correctly had named it, because of that Hawke was relieved when Merrill tripped up to her and in an unusual strained voice for the positive elf asked if they couldn't camp before reaching the Dalish camp.

When the camp was set and they all relaxed in the warmth of the fire. Hawke chose to place herself next to Merrill. She didn't want to pry, but she was worried about what Merrill was hiding.

"Merril, why are you arguing with your clan?"

"We are not arguing - not really. Not anymore, anyway…" Merrill looked down at her hands. "The Keeper just doesn't agree with me."

The look on the face of her fellow blood mage was a look Hawke recognized. Bethany had so often worn that exact look as a child when she had looked at the other children playing. It was the look of not belonging.

Without thinking Hawke reached out and patted Merrill on the top of her head as she had done to Bethany when they were kids. She immediately withdrew her hand again. Merrill wasn't Bethany, and she definitely wasn't a child. Hawke felt her cheeks growing warm. She hated making a fool of herself. Trying to assemble some of her dignity Hawke desperately searched her brain for something, anything to say that didn't continue her current trend of being an idiot.

"I don't know what you argued with Marathari about, but she will come around one day."

Hawke had promised Bethany that one day the two of them would be able to live normally. Bethany had always looked at her with those sad eyes that told Hawke that her little sister knew that her promise was a white lie. Merrill on the other hand looked at Hawke with hope in her eyes.

"Of course she will. Once I have proven that I am right." The elf smiled. "You are a very nice person, Hawke. You and Carver both."

Hawke turned her head to avoid dying of laughter, but she couldn't hold it completely back. To think that anyone on the surface of Thedas would actually call Carver nice and that with a straight face.

A knowing smile began to emerge on Hawke's lips. Carver's fumbling attempts at talking with Merrill had not gone unnoticed, as well as Merrill insistence that Carver's words were secretly part of some sort of dirty complot the elf was left out of.

Hawke was definitely tired. The trip to the Gallows had drained her of most of her good sense and listening to Isabella and Anders discuss some electricity trick they had 'shared' when they first met, had killed the rest. If that hadn't been the circumstances, Hawke would never, ever have done such a thing as she did. But she leant forward so she could whisper to Merrill and avoid the prying ears on the other side of the fire.

"Do you like humans, Merrill?"

"You are all very nice... Anders is a bit grumpy, but you are nice."

"That is not what I meant. I meant: Like the way Isabella likes someone."

"How does Isabella..." Merril's eyes widened. "Oh... oh!" She blushed. "I… I just want to be a part of the dirty talking. It is no fun always being left out."

"You know, you could do the dirty talking then you wouldn't be left out. You could..."

Truth to be told Hawke had about as much idea of how to flirt as Merrill. As an apostate she had pretty much decided to die a happy spinster, hopefully with her little sister by her side. That would not happen now. Her eyes quickly flicked to Isabella, the reigning champion of dirty talking, and back again. A metaphor or a euphemism- that was what she needed. Not wanting to think of her little brother in that way at all, Hawke went with the obvious thing everyone was making jokes about.

"You could try complimenting Carver on his sword skills." Hawke suggested. "It might not be dirty, but I know he likes to hear about them." She was pretty sure that Carver found Merrill cute and her little brother could use a compliment or two - Innuendo or not.

"O... okay I will try that." Merrill was blushing even more now, and convinced that she had, if nothing else, just found something she could tease Carver with in all eternity, Hawke looked satisfied to the other side of the fire and noticed that Anders looked at Merrill and her. He looked to be in a bad mood. Hawke shrugged and decided that it was time for her to go to sleep.

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><p>It had been a nice evening. Anders had been reminiscing with Isabella about a time they had shared in the Pearl, thankful that they had all left the Gallows unharmed and thus a little more unguarded, when his eyes sought what they so often sought these days: Hawke who was chatting with Merrill. Suddenly Hawke leant closer to her fellow blood mage and patted Merrill on top of her head. Anders felt like he had been punched when Hawke turned her head away with a slightly embarrassed look on her face. Then Merrill said something in a low voice that made Hawke laugh. Anders was not sure that he had ever seen Hawke laugh freely before. With her face brightened up by the rush good mood, Hawke leant closer to Merrill and whispered something that made the other woman flush bright red.<p>

It had been a long time since Anders had felt so physically ill.

"Will you look at that?" Isabella said as she too had noticed the scene on the other side of the fireplace. "Now that I think about it, Hawke do have a golden naked woman on her staff."

"Hawke is _not_ interested in women." Anders almost hissed. Not that he was one to judge by the gender other chose to sleep with, but the thought of Hawke and Merrill... Hawke and Merrill...

He knew that he could never have Hawke. She would just be hurt and it would end in tears, but... Merrill. Merrill was a _blood mage_ - as was Hawke, but unlike Merrill Hawke was... Hawke was... well she was Hawke. She was this incredible woman, who…

He was running out of argument as to why Merrill didn't deserve Hawke.

"Cheer up!" Isabella said as she noticed his expression. "Kitten is a do-gooder. Hawke is a super do-gooder. They will make a good match." Isabella smirked. "But if Hawke is into the fairer sex, perhaps I should try my own luck. I don't think I have ever done it with a blood mage. They got to have some nice tricks - at least they can literally get the blood pumping."

"No!"

"Aw." Isabella said. "So I can expect no electricity tricks from Hawke."

"I don't think Hawke is the type for a quick tumble." Anders stated. Of that he was at least certain.

"But I can convert everyone." Isabella grinned. "Willing to place a bet on it."

"No."

Isabella looked at him disappointed.

"You were a lot more fun that night." She said.

Anders shrugged. It was true. He used to have a lot more fun, but the time for fun was over.

He watched Hawke as she removed her mercenary robes at the edge of visibility. She had the form of a typical mage; a slender body with slightly broad shoulder acquired by wielding long, heavy staves. Anders forced his eyes away from Hawke. He should stop this. It would end badly. That part of his life was done.

The earth was cold and hard and bumpy. He could feel every little stone and hole in the ground. Of course he could just wrap his blanket closer around himself, but he wouldn't. Sleeping meant having his mind wandering to the Fade where Justice usually was dominant, and if Justice wasn't dominant, he dreamt about Darkspawn. No, Anders didn't like the Fade. Instead he lay on the ground and got chilled to the bone while he tried to keep awake by making out the forms of the dark clouds on the black sky.

But he was exhausted and some part of his brain knew that there was no danger with Hawke's marbari keeping watch. He didn't noticed how his body grew heavy together with his eyelids…

Darkness enveloped him. It was closing in. Preventing him from breathing freely. Anders hammered his hands against it only to find that the darkness was made of bricks. Solid bricks. Bricks he knew, because for a year they and the mouser had been all the company he had haft.

"**If you are a demon. Know that you cannot trap us in this dream!" **Justice slipped into control, but even forced to the back of their joined mind the part that was pure Anders was keenly aware of the darkness, the small room and the walls which were closing in. The walls_ were_ closing in. He felt how all the air was being sucked out of the room. They were being suffocated.

The Fade shook. A voice pierced through the Veil.

"…Anders! Anders wake up, please!"

He heeded the request and opened his eyes to stare into the familiar expressionless bluish ones.

"Hawke?"

"Are you all right?" She asked. "You were hyperventilating."

"It is all right." Anders said. "I am used to nightmares. It is a grey warden thing." Not that this was a Grey Warden dream, but Hawke didn't need to know.

Hawke didn't back away.

"What kind of dreams causes you too hyperventilate?" Hawke asked. "It sounded like you had a panic attack."

"... You don't know how lucky you got it." Anders said as he didn't know how to answer her in any other way without telling her of his claustrophobia. "To have been an apostate your whole life and never been trapped in a Circle."

"That does not sound like a Grey Warden dream…" Hawke commented then she sighed as she chose to respect his avoidance. "I don't know what is worst. When you are in a prison you long to be free, and when you are on the run you long to any sense of security."

"You still had it bet…"

Hawke lifted her hand to signal that she wasn't finished yet.

"What I meant to say is that neither of the situations are acceptable. People shouldn't spend their life in prison or in hiding just because of an accident of birth." Hawke paused. Anders could almost hear her chewing her lower lip. "In fact I don't even accept that my born abilities are called an _accident_ of birth. Everyone have a right to lead a normal life."

Anders couldn't help it. He smiled warmly at Hawke. Thankfully it was still too dark for her to see it.

"We agree on that. You are good and strong person, Hawke which is why I don't…"

"No!" Hawke sharply interrupted. "If this is about how blood magic is a tool of the weak and desperate, then know that I am not in the mood to ignore you before the sun rises."

"You could listen to me." Anders suggested. "You are better than this, Hawke. You don't need to cut corners."

"I am better than listening to Chantry propaganda." Hawke said. A hint of anger simmered right underneath the calmness of her voice. She stood up. "I think it is time we wake the others." The discussion was over - for now.

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><p>The Dalish did not like to share with the so called Shemlen. That much Hawke learned when she tried to ask the Dalish crafter about ironbark. After being told how much she was <em>not<em> better than any Dalish hunter, Hawke did manage to get the location, but as she went to gather the team she found Merrill in yet another discussion with the Keeper.

"No, Keeper." Merrill said. "I have not reconsidered. I only came here with Hawke. I…"

Merrill looked uncomfortable and tired. Like it was an argument she had had many times. Hawke decided to rescue her - seeing Merrill sad, tugged at the same place in her heart as seeing Bethany sad had done.

"I am sorry, Keeper." Hawke said with a slight bow of her head out of respect for the Dalish leader. "But I need to borrow Merrill now."

"Take good care of her, human."

"Of course." Hawke answered and gently led Merrill away.

"Are you all right?" Hawke asked.

"Yes." Merrill said as she crossed her. "It will be all right."

"Of course it will."

The clearing with the ironbark was only approximately a day away so the group made it there as the sun was beginning to set. It was a good thing Merrill was with them as she hopefully could identify the mysterious bark and save them for some time. As she made it into the clearing, she felt a heavy hand on her spike-free shoulder. She lightly turned her head, and looked into Anders' worried eyes.

"Darkspawn!" He said. Hawke followed the way his eyes went and her own and her fingers automatically clenched harder around her staff.

Those grotesque, tainted, cursed creatures. Bethany flashed before her eyes. Her little sister had been so nice, so kind. Hawke looked at the monsters one more time, and then looked at her companions.

They would _not_ take another.

* * *

><p>Ns (scowls): I can never spell the Dalish Keeper's name and actually just thought of going with Keeper through the whole story, but it felt unnatural.<p> 


	3. Apostate Mercenary

Ns: The next chapter. I know it took a long time, but it will do that as I re-read and rewrite my chapters for this fiction several times before putting a chapter out.

Disclaimer: I don't own dragon age, the characters of dragon age or even most of the events of this fiction since it is based on the game Dragon Age 2.

* * *

><p><strong>Apostate Mercenary <strong>

Hawke slammed her staff into the Hurlock as it charged at her with its weapons drawn. A sense of elation filled her as the monsters fell, but the delight was mixed with a strange feeling of sorrow. It was somehow easier now. Her body moved more fluently in battle - naturally, as if she had been born to do it. The weight of her staff fitted perfect with her hand and the weight from her extra staff strapped to her back did not bother her at all. When she had run from Lothering she had had trouble keeping up her Arcane Shield around just herself. Now her shield was just a stray thought she kept in the back of her mind, together with the notion of spreading the element of her staff to the weapons of her companions. The two enchantments didn't cause her trouble anymore and she still had time to focus on the battle and muse over her battle style.

Hawke didn't think about the question any further when she felt a familiar shake under her feet. The lesser Darkspawn scattered to the side and Hawke looked at the large monster: An Ogre. The same thing that had killed Bethany.

In that moment Hawke experienced the horror of deja vu. The Ogre roared and charged the group. Isabella nimbly jumped out of the line of attack. That, however, meant that Merrill would be the one who got hit.

"Watch out!" Hawke shouted, but it was too late. Merrill tried to escape using her spell that allowed her to move underground. She didn't cast it in time. The Ogre brutally shoved the small frame into a three. Merrill didn't rise again.

For a second Hawke thought that her heart would stop, but she noticed Anders already moving towards Merrill. Hawke calmed herself long enough to cast her most solid barrier around the healer and then pulled out her knife.

The steel felt cold, yet hard against her skin, a swift movement and the coldness was replaced with the warmth liquid of her life blood.

Blood magic felt good. It was a rush of awareness, of knowing that she was truly alive. The feeling of power of that flowed rhythmically through her body with each heartbeat was more than just normally enchanting. Hawke lifted her staff and forced the sharp end through her body. The incredible pain was a part of the spell. It caused adrenaline to flow through her body which caused her heart to beat faster, strengthening the magic. Hawke dragged the staff outward again while focusing on the last group of hurlocks. They fell easy enough for her blood spell, but the Ogre was too big for Hawke to completely kill it by corrupting its blood.

The rest of the battle became drawn out. Hawke remembered Isabella dancing around the Ogre, dodging the wild swing of large arms of the creature while she tried to find a soft spot to stick her knives in. Hawke herself circled around the Ogre, hexing it and trying to trap it in a Crushing Prison while she at the same times avoided the rocks it threw at her. At some point Anders rejoined the fight (Hawke assumed that meant that Merril was safe), but at the point Hawke was so tired that all that existed in her mind was casting curses and the rushing of blood in her veins. When the Ogre finally fell, Hawke immediately let go of her blood magic. For some reason she was freezing and the edge of her vision was blurred. As Isabella went to retrieve the Iron Bark, Hawke staggered a little backward – hoping that no one would notice – and tried to lean casually against a three. She felt herself growing weaker. She looked down at her hand. The wound hadn't closed and it wasn't the only wound on her body which hadn't healed. There simply had been enough residue life energy in the corpses. Hawke rested her head against the rough three. She was so tired. She would close her eyes, just for a little while.

* * *

><p>There was an air of dust and smoke that made it hard to breathe. She was in the remains off a building; around her were charred dead bodies. Somehow Hawke knew that it was her fault. Even if she didn't know them, she had failed these dead corpses.<p>

A presence snuck up behind her. Someone leant very close and whispered seductively in her ear.

"You poor, sweet thing… you don't deserve this…"

Hawke shot up. She stumbled over the charcoaled bodies as she hastily turned around. A desire demon had causally place itself on the debris. The creature smiled at Hawke. It was properly supposed to be an inviting smile, but as the mage, she was, Hawke only found how the presence made her shiver as all her childhood teaching flashed through her mind.

"I don't need you!" Hawke firmly said. "And this is a dream."

"But it _could_ be true." The desire demon floated down towards her. "You know it could be true." Hawke took a step backwards. She didn't want to be too close to it. Father had told her how powerful demons could cloud the mind and make one think that bad ideas were good, just by being close. She needed distance. "But…"

"NO!" Hawke said. "Not interested. Stay away!"

The desire demon just smiled and leant closer. For some reason there was suddenly a wall behind her preventing her from backing away further.

"Let me give you a hint." The demon purred. "There power you wield could be so much stronger. For example why only take energy from the dead? There are so much more in the living."

"I am _not_ sacrificing people!" Hawke almost hissed. She _did_ know a sacrifice spell, but to use it she had to damage her allies and she was against that on principle… "Get away."

"I was talking about your _enemies_, Sweet thing. If you are going to kill them anyway, does the method really matter?"

"Get..!"

"Just think about it." The demon vanished, but Hawke knew that she hadn't seen the last of her… it… whatever she was supposed to call it.

* * *

><p>When Hawke opened her eyes she did not feel rested at all thanks to the meeting with the demon. In fact she still felt a little dizzy as she sat up. Barely had she moved a muscle before Anders was at her side.<p>

"Don't move!" He scolded. "You need to rest."

"I don't feel too well." Hawke admitted. "I think I lost too much blood."

"You don't say."

There was a long awkward silence.

"Are you not going to scold me?" Hawke finally asked. "No: This is the proof of how dangerous and depraved blood magic is?"

"Do you _want_ an argument?" Anders asked. "Because I will be happy to tell you how foolish you were."

That made Hawke pause. Normally she liked silence, but for some reason it really grated on her when it concerned Anders. It just irritated her to no end that he couldn't see that she was right about her blood magic.

Even if she _had_ knocked herself out this time.

...At this moment she might not have the most convincing argument at hand.

"Father tried to teach me healing." Hawke suddenly said. She needed to kill this awkward silence. "But I never got good at it."

"Why not?" Anders asked. "You are good with the Arcane School. Creation shouldn't be so difficult for you."

"It is a bit naïve of me, but I have always felt that if I was strong enough I could protect everyone so they wouldn't need healing." Hawke smiled at herself bitterly. "I wish Thedas was a place where healing magic was only needed for sickness. Silly, isn't it?"

Anders placed his hands on her top of hers.

"It is not silly."

The warmth from his hands quickly became uncomfortable. Too warm, too… close in some way. Hawke drew her hands back to herself again. For a moment she thought that she saw a slightly hurt look on Anders face, but it just increased her uncomfortably.

"We should get back." She said.

Apparently Hawke couldn't even make it back to Kirkwall without being tasked with something. On the way home she met a dwarven merchant named Jarvaris and somehow agreed to track down Tal-Vashot, the Qunari outcast. Having never dealt with the horned, heretical giants before, Hawke decided to take a day's rest home. Epically since Isabella told Hawke that she couldn't help her with this task because she had some friends to visit. And Carver would want to do this job as well. So Hawke went back to her temporary home.

It took a long time for Carver to accept the fact that he had been named after a Templar. Hawke somehow managed to convince him that it had been a good Templar (Although the words 'good' and 'Templar' rarely were something she used in the same sentence), but dinner was still spent with a lot of glaring from her little brother's side. When she decided that she had enough, Hawke put down her bread.

"It is not me who named you." She said irritated. "Can't you glare at mother instead?"

"Marian." Her mother didn't sound happy.

"That not what I am mad about. I can't believe you went into the Gallows of all places." Carver said. "What good is scraping money together if you get yourself caught? It would all be a bloody waste."

"Enough!" Leandra said, knowing both her children and that it likely wouldn't end well. "Can't you too act nice to each other?"

"I _am _acting nice." Hawke said and bit her lower lip.

"You are acting self-righteous. It is always 'I am right.' I know best'. 'Nothing happens to me'."

"I am oldest!" Hawke said as if that simple fact made all the difference.

"That doesn't mean you are smartest."

"Compared to you it does!"

"Whatever, I am out here!" Carver walked out, demonstratively smacking with the door.

Hawke went back to silence, breaking her bread into tinier bits until only crumbs were left. Her mother watched her sharply.

"Is something the matter?" She asked.

Hawke shook her head. She didn't know how to explain it. She had served a year as a mercenary under Meeran, back then it hadn't bothered her so much, because it was just for a year and the meaningless job would end, but wasn't she still doing exactly the same thing: Taking on very dubious job in the order to earn some money… she felt like she was just a sword (or a staff if she had to be precise) for sale. Would it really be different when she earned enough money to buy her mother's title back? Would she stop doing this?

* * *

><p>A couple of days passed in the clinic and Anders was working hard to keep the refugees somewhat healthy. In his spare time he was beginning to do a little research on the mage situation in Kirkwall. Back in Fereldan he had heard the rumors about Kirkwall, but now when he was here in the city, the real situation proved to be worse than the rumors.<p>

Anders rested his elbows on one of the boxes he used as a table. It was rough and uncomfortable, he hadn't slept in a proper bed for months and he ate irregularly, he didn't have a proper set of clothes anymore and didn't have a regularly access to clean water (and the clean water he had was often used on his patient). Yet Anders knew with an increasingly certainty that he wouldn't run this time. What had happened to Karl would not happen to another mage. **They would obtain justice**. He would not leave Kirkwall before that.

There was also the matter of Hawke. She was here in Kirkwall. A fellow apostate and… he could only hope a friend. Anders wasn't entirely sure how Hawke felt about him. The haste and abruptness with which she had withdrawn her hand, was unusual for Hawke's normal gentle behavior – or perhaps not. Maybe it was just Anders imagination, but it had felt like Hawke had tried to pick another fight about her use of forbidden magic.

Before Anders could ponder the question further, he heard a knock on the door to the back of the clinic, but for once Hawke didn't wait for him or anyone else to answer. The door swung open and Hawke almost stormed in. Her bluish eyes locked on him, their usual expressionless contradicted by the worried wrinkles on her forehead and her staggered breath.

"Anders!" She said and grabbed his overarm. "Please come with me." He barely had time to consent before Hawke dragged him out on the street. He was led out of Darktown and into Lowtown, before he knew better they were moving up the stairs to place Hawke's uncle called a home. Hawke wasted no time but pushed him in.

Inside Anders saw a worried Leandra and a man he didn't know, but presumed was Hawke's uncle. Aveline and Fenris were present as well. All of them were standing around the chair on which a very pale Carver was placed. Anders spotted the bloodied bandage around the shoulder of the young man.

"I have Anders." Hawke said. "It has not gotten worse, has it?"

Carver mumbled something that sounded suspiciously like 'stop babying me!', but his usually sour tone drowned in the hoarse pain revealed in his voice.

Anders turned his attention to the wound. It looked like Carver's shoulder had been run through with a sharp piercing weapon, like a spear or javelin. Anders could see that some unprofessional healing magic had already been applied to the wounds and the bandages were the work of an experienced soldier. Unfortunately the wound had reopened, properly by Carver swinging his oversized sword around before it got time to heal.

"I can heal this easily enough." Anders said. "Just give me some minutes." Hawke breathed out in relief.

"Sister." Carver looked at Hawke angrily. "Shouldn't you go and meet that dwarf."

"But you are hurt."

"It is not like I am going to die."

Hawke looked at Anders for permission.

"I have this under control."

Hawke smiled briefly to him.

The wound wasn't fatal and Anders finished by the time Hawke returned with the news that the mission had failed terrible, because the dwarven merchant hadn't gained an agreement with the Arishok, leader of the Qunari, first.

"At least the Arishok seemed a little impressed that I killed all the Tal-Vashot." Hawke said. "I guess it could have worked out worse."

"Do you have to be involved with those… creatures?" Leandra asked. "I still remember that horrifying Sten who slaughtered a family."

"They are a bit intimidating." Hawke admitted. Aveline came with another comment, agreeing with Leandra that Hawke had to be careful about whom she got mixed up with, and Carver was now well enough to come with his usual comment about how his older sister would never miss the chance to jump into the first pool of trouble she found, he was aided by Gamlen who just wished everyone out of _his_ house.

Anders looked at the group. They all seemed so familiar with one another, even though the tone amongst them was cruel at times it was said with a familiarity and love that nobody seemed to question, and Hawke seemed so… unguarded. She even told some horrible jokes. Deciding that no one would miss him, Anders left the 'house' quietly.

He had reached the stairs going leading down to Darktown when Hawke caught up to him again.

"Anders, why did you just leave?" She asked.

"You didn't need my help anymore."

"True… But mother wants to invite you for dinner for helping Carver."

"I don't require aid for my healing."

"I know. I know." Hawke waved her hands dismissingly in the air. "But do it as a favour to me. Mother would never forgive me if I just let you walk away after healing Carver without some kind of payment. I know we are poor, but Mother is not a bad cook."

"I don't belong there. I will just contaminate your family."

Hawke's eyebrow slowly rose.

"With what? I didn't know that spirit possession was contagious…" She looked horrified for a moment and clasped her hand over her mouth as she realized what she had said. "I am so sorry. I didn't mean to make light of it, I know how much it troubles you. I just… Will you please do this for Mother? She wants to know who I hang out with."

"And you think the apostate living in the server is a good start."

"Mother eloped with an apostate, you know. She is going to judge you from being a mage. Have you not listened to anything about my family?" Hawke bit her lower lip again. The healer in Anders had a sudden urge to ask her to stop mistreating her poor lip so, but he resisted the urge.

"It is fine." Hawke said. "I won't pressure you if it makes you feel uncomfortable. I can deal with Mother scolding me for mistreating my friends. It is a step up from scolding me from having none, I guess."

Anders had a hard time imagine Hawke feeling lonely. But he couldn't bear the sad look on her face, empathized by the emptiness from the colour of her eyes.

"No, I will come." Even if he knew that he should try to keep a more professional distance to Hawke and not get caught up by her mixed signals.

Hawke smiled at him again, but as she quickly turned around Anders thought for a moment that he saw a hint of a triumphant smirk in her smile.

He shook his head and tried to shake of the warnings of mind control and similar evil abilities of the malificarum that he had been continuously warned about during his circle training, but no matter what he did, Anders couldn't shake the feeling that Hawke had somehow tricked him into doing what she wanted. Blood magic or not.

* * *

><p>Ns: The chapter is finished. There is properly going to be some time between chapters now since I don't have anymore more pre-finished ones at hand. Also I have been thinking, should I include the dlc story lines in the story? Legacy seems like a naturally choice given the information it gives about Malcom and so on... and I know for sure that it gave me some alteration about my head-canon of da2. (Which this story is based on, but not exactly equal to.)<p> 


	4. Hunting for an Apostate

Ns: I have really been thinking about this, but now I have decided. While I want to avoid using the game's dialog as much as possible (bcause we properly all has heard them) I just think that some main quests are too important to skip over if the story has to be told so I will reflect the dialogs as I rember them. That means that they won't be a 100 % correct. I am also going to include both Legacy and Mark of the Assassin, but not yet. (With the speed I am going I will properly have time to include the next dlc as well, but I guess we will see.)

Disclaimer: I don't own anything even remotely Dragon Age related.

* * *

><p><strong>Hunting for an Apostate<strong>

One of the consequences that Anders had forgotten about being a Grey Warden was the appetite, having no regular access to food Anders managed to beat his sense of hunger down.**Hunger was a weakness and preyed on desperation and need**, but being presented with well tasting food in a decent amount made it incredible hard not to indulge in this particular weakness. He had tried to restrain himself, but somehow Anders still managed to finish his meal twice as fast as the Hawke-family and Aveline. Hawke looked at him with her mouth slightly agape. Anders wasn't sure if she was impressed or the opposite.

"Anders, you…"

"It is a Grey Warden thing." Anders quickly interjected before Hawke would begin probing him on his eating habits. The last thing he needed was for her to order him to eat with her family regularly. He was trying to decrease the amount of time thinking about Hawke, not increase it. "You don't need to worry about it."

"But…"

"It is really not a problem."

Hawke's brow furrowed and she bit her lip again. Anders had a clear feeling that a new argument was coming, but a long pause was all there was. Then her brow straightened and she let her lip go into one of her polite smiles.

"It is a compliment to Mother, I guess." She said. "But since you like her cooking so much, why don't you take the rest of mine? You seem to appreciate it more than I do."

"Your mother's cooking _is_ good." Anders said. "But with your magic it is important to eat healthy and eat a lot of nutrients."

"What do you mean?" Leandra looked at Anders worried and it occurred to him that perhaps he had been careless. From Hawke's side of the table two dull bluish eyes were resting on him heavily.

"I...meant that... Your children do a lot of fighting they need energy." It was a horrible excuse and Anders knew it.

"Something I don't know about?" Leandra's attention was back again to Hawke. "Malcom was always so strict with your food as well."

"It must be a spirit healer thing." Hawke said with a sigh. "Being noisy and moralising, I mean."

"Shouldn't you be a spirit healer, then?" Carver asked.

"Big sisters have a sacred duty to be noisy." Hawke retorted. "What else should little brothers complain about?"

The siblings glared at each other and the rest of the dinner was spent with bicker between brother and sister. Occasionally Hawke's eyes glanced towards Anders as if they wanted to ensure that he kept his mouth shut.

When Anders walked home Hawke insisted on following him back. They walked in silence until Gamlen's house was out of sight.

"Mother doesn't know about the blood magic" Hawke finally said. "I would appreciate it if you keep quiet about it."

"Hypocrite." Anders mumbled.

Hawke stopped.

"What?" Her voice turned sharp as steel.

"If you truly believed that blood magic was just a tool you would tell your mother."

"No." Hawke said. "I promised Father that I wouldn't involve Mother in it. I can't break my promise to a dead man."

"It sounds like a convenient excuse."

"Fine!" Hawke threw her hands into the air. "You win."

"I… win?"

"Yes! I will tell Mother about it right now. I hope you have an extra cot in you clinic, though. Because when I am going to be kicked out from home I am holding you responsible."

Hawke turned around and looked about ready to stomp off in anger. Instead she froze in place as she caught a sight of the late evening sun being reflected with in the armour of a red haired Templar.

"Is he heading for the Alienage?" She asked as she looked at Anders. Her eye colour was expressionless as usual, but Anders heard the worried pitch in her voice.

"Do you think that someone in the Alienage has discovered Merrill's secret?" He asked.

"I…" The slight tremble in her voice morphed into her hard steel like tone. "I am not going to let a Templar hurt anyone." Hawke grabbed her knife from some hidden part of her body and stormed after the Templar. For a second Anders paused. He remembered how he had 'left' the Wardens, he remembered how he had lost control in the Chantry. What if he lost it in the Alienage as well? **He could not allow the Templars injustice to continue.** Anders closed his eyes for a second to supress the voice in his head. It would be all right. Neither Hawke nor her friends had been hurt in the Chantry. Nothing would happen in the Alienage.

* * *

><p>Luckily the Templars wasn't after Merrill. Apparently the Templar (named Trask) was talking to an elvish woman who had sought the Circle's aid for her son. While Hawke definitely was relieved that Merrill wasn't the target, she began biting her lip again and Anders was sure that he heard her mumble 'Bitch!'. Hawke took a deep breath while she waited for the Templar to disappear and then she walked towards the sobbing mother. Her shoulder were tense, the mistreatment of her lower lip continued, but Hawke still somehow managed to smile calming at the woman.<p>

"Can I help?" She asked.

"You heard all that and you would still help. An apostate?" The mother asked. Hawke nodded to the elf as an encouragement to continue. "I am Arianni." The mother presented herself. "My boy Fenriyel is all I have. When I learned he has magic, I… I could not bear to lose him, but his connection to the Fade gives him nightmares about demons. It grows harder each day to wake him. I would rather lose him to the Circle than lose him to himself."

At those words Hawke started to bite her lip again.

"What about his father?" Hawke asked. "Does he have no opinion of this?"

"His father was an Antivian merchant I… dallied with when my clan was in town. He has no wish for an elven wife or an elven blooded child. I have written letters to inform him of Fenriyel's progress, but…"

Arianni stopped the sentence, but Anders knew the type of man.

"What can I do to help?" Hawke asked.

"Find Fenriyel. Bring him somewhere safe." Arianni sighed. "I don't know where he is, but there are two places you might start your search: Ser Trask is properly in the Gallows, if you speak to him you will be able to find out which ground he has already covered. If not… Fenriyl's father – Vicentio is in Kirkwall right now. He is a merchant in Lowtown. Perhaps Fenriyel has sought out his help."

"I am not going to leave you fearful for a moment longer than necessary." Hawke said.

"Right." Anders added. "We will find him before the Templars. You can't trust that they have his best interest in mind."

"Thank you." Arianni said. "We have spent a long time hiding. It is almost a relief to finally confront this openly."

"We'll find him." Hawke once more ensured. As soon as they had walked away from Arianni she sighed. "Some mothers don't deserve their children." She muttered. "To sell out her son like that."

"Hawke…"

Hawke waved her hand dismissingly.

"Yes, I know… I know. It is easy for me to say - With my father and sister also being mages an all that. I know we had it easy compared to other apostates, but… I can so easily imagine how that kid must have felt when he heard that his mother betrayed him." Hawke stopped as she noticed Anders' expression. "This must bring up painful memories." She said. "I am sorry. Let's just concentrate on saving this kid." Hawke looked around. "Can you go and get Merrill? Fenris said he would be in the Hanged Man with Isabella. I will fetch one of them and then we'll meet in the Lowtown Bazar before the merchants disappeared for the night."

"You want _me_ to talk to Merrill?"

"You want to talk to Fenris? Isabella is properly drunk."

"Fine you win."

Merrill's home was a case example of an Alienage home. It was dirty, messy and Anders was sure that he saw a rat ran into a dark corner. He heard Merrill move about in one of the other room and sound she came into her entrance/living room.

"Hawke, you can sit down. You properly know that I only have wa… Oh Anders." Merrill's perkiness seemed to deflate a little when she noticed it was him and not Hawke. "I didn't think that you would come and visit."

"Hawke wants us to meet in the Low Town Bazar now."

"Oh… Are we going shopping again?" Merrill asked as she grabbed her staff leaning against the wall.

"Do you see Hawke outside of missions often?"

"She comes by sometimes with Carver. They help me find my way around…" Merrill said. "Are you feeling ill, Anders. You don't look so well."

* * *

><p>Fenris did not like mages. He did not like demons and he most certainly did not like mages who were haunted by demons in their dreams and made his opinion very clear while they were waiting to meet up with Anders and Merrill.<p>

But Hawke simply let him talk about sending the apostate to the Circle without really listening. It was funny how her tolerance of Fenris' hate against magic was so much higher than her tolerance of a mother who properly felt scared and isolated. Luckily Anders and Merrill showed up (with Anders looking sour again) before Hawke could mentally bury herself in another internal moral discussion, and thanks to Elegant (Hawke's potion provider) they tracked down Vicentio fairly easily.

"You look like a lady who would appreciate fine Antivan clothes." The Merchant said as soon as he laid eyes on Hawke, he jumped a little as all men but Anders did when he noticed her eyes, but still didn't seem to stop his sale speech. Hawke decided to cut it short.

"I am not here for clothes." She said. "I am looking for you son, serah, and I think he might had gone to you."

Vicentio laughed a little uncomfortably.

"My dear lady I am a fortunate bachelor. No one has managed to tie Vicentio down."

Hawke sighed. Either Vicentio was protecting his son or he didn't want to admit to his existence, Hawke suspected that it was a bit of both. She looked around, but it was so close to night that most of the stalls were packing up and in fact it was only their interrogation that kept the antivian merchant in Lowtown.

Carver wasn't with her so he couldn't chide her for being reckless. Hawke carefully summoned her connection to the Fade in no particular form - just letting a light blue glow surround her hand.

"I understand if you want to protect him." She said. "But I am no Templar."

"You are a mage? I suppose you will be kind to a boy who resists being taken by the Templars then?"

"You have no idea." Anders said with a smile that suggested that no matter how much he scolded her on her blood magic, he at least trusted her to have mages best interest at heart.

"Evidently not." Fenris added dryly – well he knew her too, Hawke guessed. Merrill only smiled encouraging.

"You have our promise, serah." Hawke said.

"I couldn't help him myself so I sent him to an acquaintance of mine. A former Templar named Samson who now helps mages."  
>"And where can I find this Samson?" Hawke asked.<p>

"He is in Lowtown during the night. If you wait an hour or two more it should be easy for you to find him."

Hawke turned towards the other.

"I guess we wait at the Hanged Man."

* * *

><p>Isabella was drinking as usual drinking and by the look of it she had more than enough.<p>

"Hawke," She said as soon as she spotted them and removed herself from the man she was talking up. "Finally decided to come off your high horse and have some fun with the rest of us?" She leant so close that Hawke could smell the cheap ale in her breath. "I know a very girlish way of fun."

"I really think your and my idea of fun is different." Hawke said as she took as step away. "Besides we are working right now."

"You are such a bore." Isabella said with what was supposed to be a sexy pout. She placed her arm around Merrill instead. "Do you know what body shots are?"

Hawke could only watch as Isabella dragged off with Merrill. The raider had heard the part about them still being on a job, she would not get Merrill too drunk, would she? Hawke realized that Isabella would do just that. She seemed to have a fondness of teasing the blood mage. Hawke looked at Fenris pleadingly:

"I know it is a lot to ask, but could you keep an eye on Isabella, make sure she doesn't mess up this mission too much?" It was hard to precisely analyse the look Fenris gave her, but Hawke guessed that he properly wasn't too happy. "Isabella likes you." Hawke explained. "There is a higher chance that she will listen to you than to me."

"I doubt it." Fenris said, but he still went off to do damage control which left Hawke alone with Anders again. Hawke immediately went to the table nearest the fire and as predicted Anders followed her as she sat down.

Struck by her usual talkative mood that Hawke felt whenever she was near Anders, she sighed.

"Fighting Tal'Vashots, dragging a wounded Carver home, meeting the Arishok and now I am waiting so I can meet an ex-templar and rescue an apostate. It has been a very long day."

"You left out awkward dinner at your house." Anders said.

"I was being polite. It was mostly your gracious putting the foot in your mouth that ruined that dinner."

"You could have warned me." Anders said. "How was I to know which family secrets you keep?"

"Fair point." Hawke admitted with a shrug. The fire was making her feel slightly warmer and in a lot better mood. "It was just not my idea of fun."

Anders looked at her with the smile that made Hawke want to push the chair a little away. Unfortunately there was a fireplace and a wall in the way.

"Is… is something the matter?"

"I was just thinking that Isabella has a point, you know. What _is_ your idea of fun?"

"That's a sudden question. I don't know how to answer it on top of my head." Hawke honestly replied.

"How about just thinking about the last time you had fun."

"That is easy it was when…" Hawke paused. Half a minute passed, then a minute, then two, three, four, five. "It is coming right up."

"Perhaps…"

"Shuush. I am thinking here." Hawke looked up and into Anders eyes. "Training Red when he was a puppy was a great deal of fun. Hah!"

"Isn't your Marbari fully grown?"

"Uh… yes?" Hawke ducked her head a little.

"So how old were you?"

"…12?"

"Hawke…"

"It is also fun to tease Carver." Hawke shook her head as she heard her own words. "I am sounding pathetic, aren't I?" She slumped over the table.

"Perhaps a little." Anders' hand hovered over hers, but whatever it was he wanted to do, he decided against it. "But I like you that way. You are nice and help people and you are serious, I have never known a person like you before."

Hawke snorted.

"I am not nice." She said. "And yes, I help people. With the rate I am going I will be doing favours for the Knight-Commander before long."

"But you can't do that, Hawke." Anders said. "After all you still owe me her head on a spike. That would make it hard to do favours for her, no?"

At first Hawke looked at Anders wondering where that came from, then she remembered that when they had first met, Anders had asked what she would do if he asked for Meredith's head on a spike. Knowing what she knew now, Hawke was no longer sure if it had only been a joke back then, but she still smiled at Anders.

"I am sorry, but if I ever get the Knight-Commander's head on a spike I am keeping it for myself. It would make a good wallop mallet."

"I am not so sure, Hawke. The lack of brain would make it too light. You wouldn't be able to… wallop properly with it."

Hawke tried not to giggle.

"To be fair I am not entirely sure what a wallop match is, but if Uncle is involved it can't require too much brain power. I could find better use for a dictator on a stick, though. What about a fetching stick for Red?"HawkeH

"What if he gets a taste for oppression? You wouldn't be able to control him in this town."

"That is not funny." Hawke said, but could no longer stop laughing.

"Then why are you laughing?"

"Am not!" Hawke lightly showed his shoulder. "I have it! I could use it to whack Carver each time he says that he is tired of mages and magic."

"Even the skull of the Knight-Commander can't possibly be thick enough to withstand _that_ treatment."

"Perhaps a fair point."

The rest of the waiting time was thus spend on making up more and more morbid uses of Meridith's head on a stick. Perhaps not the healthiest way to explore her joking nature, but it certainly helped putting her in a better mood.

* * *

><p>Templars were pathetic, Hawke had always thought that, but as she spoke to shadow of a man who had once been a Templar, Hawke discovered that she despised former Templars even more.<p>

"He took who captive?" She asked in disbelief. She could not believe that the ex-Templar had just told her that he had pointed Fenriyel and a mage girl towards a ship captain who had captured them instead of helping them.

Samson, the ex-templar, back away a little when Hawke took a threating step towards him.

"Listen he had no money. If I help every little mageling who comes begging here for free I wouldn't earn anything. It's the dust. I need it."

Hawke knew that Templars was addicted to lyrium, but…

"I pity any mage who has to rely on you for protection." Anders words mirrored her own feelings on the matter. Hawke took another step towards the man.

"If something has happened to that boy, I am coming back for you."

"Perhaps it is not too late." Samson said. "If you hurry to this warehouse you might be able to find him before he gets ransomed off to the Templars… or worse."

"I better find him in one piece." Hawke mumbled.

She wasted no time, but almost ran down the stairs leading into the docks, by some miracle they managed to avoid the gangs infecting Kirkwall in the night. The group snuck through the warehouse, more than once one of them activated a trap by accident and by the time they reached a door into an inner room they were all a little wary of anything.

It was clear from the noise on the other side that some kind of skirmish was going on the other side. Hawke leant towards the door and tried to listen in to hear if there was an opportunity to sneak in unnoticed and in the hope of avoiding more traps.

"Leave me alone." A young woman's voice begged.

"Get her hands! I've heard they can't do magic without their hands."

Hawke removed herself from the door with haste.

"Forget sneaking. We need to get in there now!" She said and kicked the door open. They were accurately seconds too late. A young mage girl was crunching on the floor, her body covered in flames.

"**You know nothing of being a mage**!" An inhuman voice boomed from the small frame as its form twisted into something that was barely anything but torn flesh and clothes.

"Shit." One of the criminal said. He turned around and saw Hawke and her group with their weapon raised. "Double shit!" It was the last thing he said before the abomination tore him apart.

Fenris dashed past Hawke with his heavy sword raised, Hawke had to duck her head as he swung it wildly and almost decapitated her along with some of the criminals.

Hawke cursed inwardly. The room was too small to fight in properly. Beside her Anders was conjuring up a fireball, Hawke quickly grabbed his arm.

"Don't!" She said. "You'll hit Fenris."

She titled her staff and slammed one of the criminals with it.

The raiders who were caught between her group and an abomination running amok where quickly slaughtered. Unfortunately that left Hawke to deal with the monster. She was about to hex it when she felt a shift in the veil around her, and before she had time to react Anders grabbed her by the arm and yanked her to the side. An arrow pierced through the air where she had just been. The corpses of the raiders they had just killed were rising again, but how?

"Vile demon." Anders said for a short second Hawke thought that she a hint of blue in his eyes. "It has summoned aid from the Fade."

Hawke placed her free hand on one of his feathered shoulders. There was a crack in his voice that Hawke thought she had heard before and she worried that he might be too upset to control his anger.

"Thanks for saving me from that arrow." She said and added in a joking tone: "Aspiring to be my knight in shining armour, are you?"

Anders looked at her surprised for a short while then it was as if he realized the situation and immediately let go of her. "Always happy to help, sweetheart."

Hawke was ready to bash him on the head with her staff for the 'sweetheart', but she let it slide. It had worked after all, he was a lot less tense and there was no hint of blue in his eyes.

They succeeded in beating the abomination, but it was a victory mixed with bitterness. This fight shouldn't have happened - If just she had been a little faster.

"Poor girl!" Anders said. "Do you think there are any clues to her identity?"

"I don't know." Hawke kneeled down beside the deformed corpse. Its clothes were burnt and torn, but from the corner of something which could once have been a pocked she saw a slight corner of white. Hawke carefully tugged in it and fished out a note.

"It is addressed to a 'Ser Trask'." She said.

"Wasn't that…" Anders asked as he leant over her shoulder to peek at the paper.

"The Templar? Yes." Hawke read it even if it turned out to be a very private letter from a daughter to her father.

"He hid her?" Anders asked. "And yet he wants to drag this boy to the circle."

"To be fair this didn't exactly end well, did it? Perhaps he regrets that?" Hawke said. She looked at the sad words written on the letter again. "She sounded almost as if she was tired of being ashamed for with she was born as… I guess that I am taking another trip to the Gallows."

"You are going to deliver the letter. How are you going to explain how you got it?"

"Doesn't she deserve to have this delivered?" Hawke asked.

"Yes she does." Anders said. "But perhaps you should let Varric deal with it."

"Oh!" Merrill interrupted them. "I think that I have found something."

It was another piece of paper, this time a delivery list.

"One human male shipped to…" Hakwe was so disgusted that she could barely finish reading it.

"Slavers!" Fenris growled.

"It is not too late, it is?" Merrill asked.

"No!" Hawke said as her eyes quickly scanned the rest of the 'shipping' list. "There is a name we can track down. To Darktown."

* * *

><p>It was windy at the Wounded Coast at night time and cold and she was even more tired than before - Besides her hand hurt from the usual wound. The name they had tracked down had led to a group of slavers and while she might have been able to avoid the fight she could not live with the knowledge of being the indirect cause of the next victims who would fell prey to slavers. Hawke closed her fingers around the bandage wrapped around her hand.<p>

"There are properly more slavers inside. Hopefully we will not be too late this time." She said.

"Let's go!" Fenris strode into the cave.

"Something tells me he isn't so eager to save the apostate." Anders said. He looked at Hawke's bloodied hand. "You have had _that_ active since Kirkwall." He said. "Don't you think, you should stop now?" His hand glowed slightly blue with healing magic.

"Once we are finished here." Hawke said. She looked at Anders expressionlessly. "I am not going to faint again. I promise."

They found the boy with the slavers, but the slavers had also heard them coming and the leader was holding a knife to the young man's throat.

"Once step further and he dies." The slaver leader said.

Hawke froze in the movement of grabbing her staff from her back.

"Wait!" She said as she lowered her weapon arm again. "We can talk about…!"

"No!" Someone beside Hawke shouted and glowed blue. For once it wasn't Anders but Fenris' lyrium tattoos that charged up as Fenris grabbed his weapon. "They need to die!"

Hawke looked at him terrified. Did he not grasp the concept of hostages? Her eyes flittered back to the leader of the slavers who now was forcing Fenriyel to kneel down. In was all on him now. If the apostate died…

"Down!" He said to Fenriyel. "You are of no value dead." Hawke sighed in relief. Luckily he hadn't followed the threat through. She reached back for her weapon. A mistake the leader of the slavers would soon regret.

Somehow the fight ended wrong. Hawke wasn't entirely sure how, but she was backed into a corner surrounded by slaver thugs. Her companions were out of sight and she was bleeding from a knife wound in her side. Wounds might make her temporarily stronger, but she was at her limit and this was not self-inflicted. The rush of power from her own running blood could no longer deafen the tiredness she felt. She needed to stop using her blood magic right now, but…

Hawke looked around there was no corpses nearby, she couldn't heal.

Hawke defiantly lifted her staff in defence. She could call out for help, but she was the leader. What would the other think if she complained? Fenris and Merrill needed Anders' healing more than her. The two of them got hurt all the times and she was supposed to be protecting the others, not running to them for help.

At least her opponents were bleeding from several wounds as well. If they would just die, so she could heal…

It was in that moment that Hawke remembered what the demon in her dream had said: Why only steal from the dead? For a second Hawke was disgusted with herself then she thought it through:

One method of killing people surely couldn't be more morally apprehensive than another. Dead was dead.

Hawke focused her mind one her enemies once more, but this time she focused on the blood she knew was running in their veins. (It really helped her visualising that many of them were bleeding) and then she concentrated on gathering that energy from the life of her enemies.

Her magic rose up inside her. There was shouting and she was shortly surrounded by pool of blood. Foreign life mixed with the flow of magic in her veins. It felt even better and stronger than her normal spells, Hawke watched as her skin and wounds mended as if she had never been wounded in the first place.

Tryingly she opened and closed her normally scarred hand, but even the faint proof of her magic had healed itself.

It had worked!

It had actually worked!

As men fell dead to the ground around her, Hawke looked over the battle field. In another corner of the battlefield she noticed Anders. He had clearly seen her new trick and looked at her with an expression she couldn't quite decipher.

* * *

><p>Ns: And so the chapter is finished. I hope that I havn't made to many spelling mistakes. They kept rearing their ugly heads each time I re-read it.<p> 


	5. Friends amongst Apostates

Ns: Next chapter. This took a hellish long time to write. Properly because I had to re-wrtie the last part a lot of times, before I was certain... (Which I still not am.)

* * *

><p><strong>Friends amongst Apostates<strong>

Some people needed to focus more on the results and less on the method, Hawke thought, as the untied and now freed young apostate was looking at her group with obvious suspicion.

"You attacked him!" Feynriel said with a hint of anger in his voice. "He held a knife at my throat and you still attacked him. What if he had killed me?"

For a second Hawke was tempted to let Fenris explain that one since it was his outburst that had led to the fight in the first place, but she was the leader of the group and it was her own fault that she hadn't predicted that slavers would make Fenris more uncooperative than usual.

"He was not going to kill you." Hawke said. "You were far too valuable for him."

Feynriel didn't look entirely convinced. Hawke couldn't blame him.

"Who are you?" He asked. "Why are you here? Are you working for the Templars?"

"Your mother sent us…" Hawke began.

"Same difference." Feynriel muttered bitterly. Hawke could understand him, but she still needed him calm down, and to achieve that goal she took a step forward and summoned her connection to the Fade. At first there was a hint of red in the mist, but Hawke quickly let go of her blood magic and turned into the standard bluish light. She hoped that Feynriel hadn't noticed.

"I am you." She said waving her hand slightly. Feynriel looked at her with big eyes. There was no longer any hint of wariness in them instead he looked at her almost admiringly.

"You are an apostate." He said. "You would help me then?" Hawke smiled at him, but she didn't get the time to say anything. "I have a plan." Feynriel explained. "I have tried to reach the Dalish and ask them to take me in. My mother was Dalish. I am one of them too. They can help me."

"It would be your humanity that mark you amongst the people – not your magic." Merrill explained.

"I know." Feynriel said. "But it is better than the Templars."

"The boy walks free, but is trained." Anders said. "Everyone wins."

Hawke looked better at Feynriel. He was no more than one or two year younger than Carver. Sure there was some structures in his face that somehow didn't look entirely human, but no one would mistake him for an elf, and with the Dalish attitudes towards 'shems' it wouldn't be an easy life, but Anders was right: Feynriel would be free amongst the Dalish, and he needed help in a way she couldn't provide."

"I know the Keeper." Hawke said. "I will try to put in a good word for you."

"Then she doesn't hate humans?" Feynriel asked with relief. "You will help me then?"

"Of course." Hawke said. "I hope you can still walk. Sundermount is more than a day away on foot."

Being kidnapped by slavers had not been enough to drain Feynriel's energy when it came to questions. As they continued the long walk towards Sundermount, the younger apostate kept asking Hawke question about everything. Hawke secretly felt that the younger apostate had been easier to deal with when he had been overly suspicious of them.

"How were you trained?"

"My father and sister were apostates as well. Father trained us."

"…Are they dead?"  
>"Yes."<p>

"Templars?"

"Not really."

Short pause.

"What kind of magic can you do?"

"I was trained in the Arcane and Entropy school, but I haven't mastered the Entropy yet. Father tried to teach me Creation, but I never got good at it."

Feynriel was looking at her confused.

"I guess you have never heard about the schools of magic." Hawke said. She closed her eyes and focused her mind on her Arcane Shield for a couple of seconds. Feynriel gasped as the swirl of magic surrounded him.

"That's magic! Real magic. From someone else." He said and tryingly touched it. "It must have been so nice to have people actually teach you proper spells and not just hide you."

"We hid too." Hawke admitted. "Can you read?"

Feynriel nodded.

"Mother taught me that much."

Hawke stopped up and shuffled through her belongings. She hadn't had time to save many of her father's grimoires when they had fled from Lothering, but she had managed to salvage the most useful ones. Her fingers brushed the griffon emblem of her most hidden book, and her mind briefly crossed the way she had upgraded her blood spell. Perhaps it was time to open the book again. She needed to study this… extension of power from a source that wasn't trying to wear her body as a suit.

She took a much less controversial, but more used book up, and blew off dirt and dust. Lying in the bottom of her backpack had not done it good. Father would give her a disappointed look if he had seen how the book was dusted, the corners crumbled and sticky from a broken elfroot poultice.

"This has seen better days." Hawke said. "But here are some human spells to remind you off us 'shems'."

"I can really have this?"

"Of course! I know all the spells in that one. It is well used as you can see, but it should still be readable."

Feynriel seemed to have a hard time in finding some words, and clutched the book to him like it contained the secret to life itself. Hawke smiled. And Isabella said that giving away for free earned her nothing. It had certainly gained Hawke a friend. Almost by accident she looked over her shoulder and looked straight into Anders (thankfully) still brown eyes that had been drilled into the back of her head for the duration of the trip. Hawke lifted her eyebrow at him and Anders quickly looked away. Anders was normally so vocal in his opinions, but he hadn't said anything for hours, and perhaps it was just her imagination, but the healer actually looked sick... as if something was tearing him up from the inside. She looked down at her now completely healed hand. Perhaps it was someone rather than something that rattled Anders.

It took a little convincing, but Marathari did agree to take the elf-blood apostate under her wings. It seemed that the Keeper of the Dalish clan trusted Hawke. Feynriel seemed sad to see her group go away, the reality of what he was doing was finally catching up to him and Hawke had to promise him that he could write to her all he wanted. They both, however, knew that it was an empty promise. The Dalish clan couldn't stay at Sundermount forever, at one time he would be a sole human amongst the elves.

* * *

><p>The long track back to Kirkwall was spent with Fenris occasionally belittlement of Merrill, the fact that Anders didn't once started an argument with either the marked warrior or the dalish elf was beginning to drive Hawke crazy and confused her to such a degree that she failed to defend her fellow blood mage from Fenris' remarks. By the time they reached Kirkwall all four of them were lacking sleep and were so irritated that it was a miracle that no one had been killed. But there were still two things that needed to be done.<p>

"Merrill." Hawke asked. "Could you tell Arianni what happened to Feynriel?"

"Aren't you coming?"

"No. I have to deliver that letter to the Templar." Hawke said, and avoided telling Merrill that she just didn't wanted the elf to disappear in the Gallows again.

"Okay." Merrill said.

"I am going to my clinic." Anders suddenly stated and walked away.

"Typical." Fenris said.

"It's is _not_ typical." Hawke said and tried to glare at the warrior. "Anders is obviously not feeling well, and I know it is not your problem, but don't comment on it."

"Why should he not be feeling well?" Fenris asked, genuinely surprised.

"It is properly me and my magic." Hawke admitted.

"Why? He already knows your weakness."

Hawke felt her already shorten fuse, shorten even more by Fenris insistence on calling her blood magic a weakness, but at least he wasn't given her any more murderous glares – not more than he normally did, anyway.

"Since we are speaking of weaknesses." Hawke said with crossed arms, feeling the need to say something not so pleasant to Fenris. "Don't ever do it again."

"Do what?"

"Attacking someone holding another hostage. It was a miracle that he didn't follow through with his threat."

"He was a slaver!" Fenris spit the word out with the same venom as whenever he said mages. Hawke resisted her urge to sigh loudly.

"I know, and I know how you feel about it, but opinions are not worth killing innocent over, and just so we are clear: We always assume that hostages are innocent. Please understand that."

Fenris looked at her thoughtfully.

"You would get yourself killed after three seconds in Minrathous." He said and left for one of the boats to the gallows. Hawke starred after him with her mouth slightly opened. She really hoped that that was supposed to be compliment.

Hawke breathed in as she looked around when the two of them entered the Gallows once more. No matter how many times she came to this cursed place (and it seemed to be far too many), it never made her less nervous. The fact that she hadn't slept for days and was overly irritated didn't make it better. Luckily Trask was easy to spot with his red hair and Hawke went straight for him, trying to ignore the fact that she was willingly seeking a Templar out.

"Haven't I seen you before?" The Templar asked as soon as he noticed Hawke. "You and a man spoke to Arianni, did you not?"

"Ah…" Hawke said as she fiddled with the letter. A Templar with a brain and eyes in his head – perish the thought.

"I have seen nothing from the lad Feynriel." Trask continued, apparently assuming that Hawke was here for the boy. "I can only assume his has fallen victim to slavers by now."

"Feynriel is safe." Hawke said unwilling to give away more information. "I came to give you this." She handed him the letter from his daughter.

"How…?" Trask started, but then stopped himself, figuring that he properly didn't want the answer to that question. "When I tracked her down I should have her forced her to go back with me, my own weakness in the face of her pleas is what killed her." Hawke secretly thought that the slavers and the demon were more to blame than a father's mercy, but she said nothing. Mage daughter or not, the man was still a Templar. "I did not wish the same thing to happen to Arianni's boy." Trask ended. It was clear from his tone that the subject was causing him grief.

"He is with people that will protect him." Hawke insisted. "But I really can't tell you more than that."

Trask looked at her at thoughtfully.

"My daughter is dead, I would not wish for her name to be smudged as well."

"I will keep her identity secret." Hawke said. Really, what did the Templar think she would do? Blackmail him? She might not like Templars, but she would never stoop that low.

Trask smiled weakly.

"Thank you. You are a good woman, serah."

"I am just sorry I couldn't save your daughter." Hawke simply answered and turned around to leave.

"You let him off too easily." Fenris said when they were out of earshot. Hawke didn't bother to answer him. The whole adventure had made her see two things: She was lucky to have a family and she had left home after dinner and had been gone for days without telling it to anyone in said family. Mother and Carver were properly ready to kill her right about now. Such care was actually a great blessing.

* * *

><p>Anders had never thought that he would be grateful for an epidemic, but when he reached Darktown some kind of sickness has spread amongst the refugees – or being tightly packed, no light, no proper food, and no clean water and nothing to do, had simply just made most of the refugees acutely sick. Whatever the reasons Anders found himself working for almost four days without proper rest in ordet to contain the sickness and for the first time in weeks Hawke's presence actually slipped his mind. That was until Varric entered his clinic.<p>

"So, Blondie." Varric said. "What's your excuse?"

Anders looked at Varric confused.

"Excuse?" He said. "I need an excuse?"

"For the weekly card game."

Anders looked around at the recovering refugees and blinked. It was already that time of the week.

"I figured that you would rather not have me coming to the Hanged Mann covered in vomit and other delicious things from my friends down here. "

"I don't know. Can't smell worse than some of the regulars. Your excuse is better than Hawke's though."

"Hawke was absent as well?"

"According to Junior, Hawke decided to stay away because she was avoiding you."

"What?"

"Junior phrased it more like: 'Even my sister grows tired of hearing about mages all the bloody time' – knowing Hawke, though, I don't think it is the plight of mages scaring her away. So what is the story?"

"Nothing." Anders answered. "There is no story."

"Blondie, that is where you are wrong. There is_ always_ a story." Varric said. "You just need the right narrator."

"You really don't need to tell stories about Hawke and me."

"If you think I won't then you don't know me very well."

Anders couldn't help, but smile. That was properly true.

"Don't come to me for healing when Hawke hears the stories and decides to use you in her next sacrifice spell." He warned.

"She wouldn't do that." Varric said. "I am far too charming to sacrifice."

"I think charming is ineffective against Hawke. But Hawke might not be the type to sacrifice her friends; she would properly just take control of your mind and force you to stop telling stories."

"That would indeed be a fate worse than death."

It was then Anders realized what he was doing. He was joking about blood magic. How had he come this far?

"I need to talk with Hawke." He said more to himself than to Varric.

"Good idea, Blonde. Good idea."

* * *

><p>Hawke was at the Emporium; a mysterious shop located in the isolated part of the sewers, run by a withered man who once had been a mage. How Hawke had gained access to this place Anders would never know, but she had apparently been allowed to share it with all of her friends. Anders moved past the creepy Urchin and found Hawke in front of a large mirror. She was starring in it intensely.<p>

"What are you doing?" Anders asked.

"Thinking about my eye colour." Hawke answered. "Apparently if I really wish it, this mirror could change the way the world perceive me. I could have normal eyes… "

"Don't!" Anders said. "I love your eyes."

Two eyes empty as the Void itself immediately turned towards him, as usual it looked like Hawke starred right through him, but Anders knew that he had Hawke's attention.

"I _do_ know how my eyes look." Hawke said as she crossed her arms. "And they aren't pretty. You don't have to flatter me."

"Don't you know that true beauty lies in imperfection?" Anders asked. "Minor flaws add character."

A faint streak of red appeared on Hawke's cheeks.

"I… I highly doubt that you have come here to discuss my eyes." Hawke mumbled as she tried to look away.

"True… I…" Anders didn't know what to say now that he was actually looking at Hawke. He wanted to chastise her for the sacrifice like spell she had used on the slavers, but for the first time in his life he was afraid. What if he offended her? Hawke might be able to shrug off insults from the like of Fenris as if they were nothing but water, but surely even she had a limit. **If she dealt with demons she was weak and needed to be led to the correct path. **But every time Anders tried to say something about it those almost blue eyes seemed to drain his will to fight her. He found himself afraid. Afraid that she would stop talking to him and ashamed that he felt this way about a blood mage, the extra thoughts in his head about going off **demons** and **their like** didn't help much in quelling his inner turmoil.

As soft touch to his cheek suddenly brought Anders back to reality.

"Anders. You are beginning to worry me." Hawke whispered. "You are normally so… vocal about your opinions. Are you sure that you are well?"

"You were worried about me?" Anders asked surprised. In the back of his mind the warnings about **distraction**and **demons** somehow drowned in the sound of his own heart beating faster.

"Of course." Hawke looked at him with a puzzled expression, apperently convinced that she had her attention she withdrew her hand. "Why shouldn't I be? I may not have had any friends before, but when the ranting one suddenly stops to talk I get worried. I'm pretty sure that's normal."

"Do I rant that much?"

Hawke smiled.

"I like it." She said and awkwardly patted the feathers on his shoulders. "Minor flaws add character."

"Are you stealing my lines?" Anders asked.

"You can't do anything about it." She challenged him. "But you are welcome to try."

Anders took as step towards her.

"I could…" Anders stopped in the second, he realised what they was doing. He was flirting with her. Again. He wondered if Hawke knew that she was flirting back? Another silence spread between them. This time it was awkward in a whole different way as both of them was busy looking at the ceiling, the floor, the golem – in fact everything but another.

"Look…" Hawke finally said. "I am going to High Town tomorrow to check up on some bounties, do you want to come along? It has been long time since we did something."

"I would like that." Anders said. He couldn't help, but smile at her. Hawke smiled back a little insecurely.

"Good then… I guess I'll see you tomorrow?"

"Yes. I better go back to my patients."

* * *

><p>As soon as Anders left the Emporium, Hawke breathed out in relief. Anders seemed better that was good. In a way it was flattering, she guessed, but she didn't feel entirely good about it after all she had purposely distracted him from the thing she suspected that he truly wanted to talk about.<p>

Hawke knew that she was right about her blood magic. Killing people with sacrifice magic was no different than killing people with fire, and if she had a choice she would do neither.

One day Anders would realise that she was, and she was perfectly willing to argue with him about it. So that was not why she had to distract him.

But the idea of using her Grave Robber spell on living persons instead of just corpses _had _come from a demon.

Hawke sighed to herself and took the gloves she wanted from the chest in the Emporium. She could feel the enchantment weaved into the stuff, tryingly she opened and closed her hand. They fitted so well…

Hawke hadn't encountered the demon again, but she had a feeling that she would. After all what kind of demon handed advice out for free?

Hawke put the gloves back into the merchant chest. She didn't have enough money to spend on only on herself yet.

Hawke would continue her debate with Anders and prove that she was right about her blood magic once she was sure that no more demons were whispering in her dreams. That was a better point to argue from. Until then… Hawke traced the place on her palm where she once had had a faint scar from blood magic. Until then she would continue to just be nice to Anders. He lit up in such an adorable smi… (Maker's breath, she wasn't Isabella) … Anders just looked so happy whenever she complimented him and he normally seemed so tired, and since it was unlikely that either of them would ever get married or… involved with anyone, it seemed like a perfectly harmless thing to do.

Hawke looked into the mirror once more. She wouldn't change her eyes after all. Perhaps they weren't so bad.

* * *

><p>Ns: And the chapter is up. I swear that I had spelled Feynriel in ten different ways when I first wrote the chapter. I hope I was at least consistent. In December and January, I will properly be this long and perhaps longer with updates since I have a lot to do with the boring thing called life and another fic that has to be updated regulary.<p> 


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